Tell Me You Need Me
by Sketty24
Summary: When Martha is sent back home to Earth, she's not entirely happy. But when the Doctor stays over for the night, maybe this is her chance to find out more about the mysterious alien. Set after Gridlock.


**Tell Me You Need Me**

"I think we've fulfilled that definition every way it can go, don't you?" the Doctor continued to explain as Martha stood with a frown on her face, looking far from impressed. Noting the expression, he sighed. "I said one trip, Martha! You've had two now!"

She leant against the inside wall of the Tardis, disappointed that after everything they had been through together he was still intending to drop her off to her everyday life. Of course, she missed her family, she missed her daily routine, but at the same time, she didn't want to leave the Doctor. He had nobody, not a soul. "Couldn't we go on a few more trips? Please?" she said, wrangling a different tactic as she tried to appeal to his better nature. "Come on, you like having me around!" she was grinning, now, trying to get a smile out of him.

The Doctor spread a wry sort of smirk. "It was good while it lasted, but you're going home now. You don't belong here."

"Rose didn't belong here either. She was a straightforward human like me."

The mention of his previous companion earned Martha a sharp look. "And look what happened to her in the end. You're better off on Earth."

"So you drop me off, then that's it? I'll never see you again?"

"Well, I might drop in, if I'm around," the Doctor compromised with a small smile. Extending his hand across the Tardis console, a button was hit as the Tardis hurtled back towards Earth.

Before she knew it, they had landed, and already the Doctor was shoving on his coat and heading for the door. "In a hurry?" Martha griped as she grabbed her leather jacket off the chair and trudged out behind him. She stepped out to join him under a heavy shower of which caused her to give slight gasp as the cold rain hit her. "Oh, this just gets better and better!"

"Come on, I didn't land us too far from your place. Lead on."

Martha pulled her coat tightly about herself, giving him a glance before she turned and ran out from behind the overflowing skip the Tardis had been parked behind. Boots splashed through puddles, startling a nearby cat who had been nosing at some old fish and chip wrappings hopefully. It was clearly late into the evening, with the nighttime sky rolling in thick clouds over London. Running through the rain in high heels wasn't the easiest thing to do, but after several adventures that required her fleeing from enemies in the very same boots, it didn't seem too bad. She jammed her hands into her jostling coat pocket as she ran, rummaging for the key to her apartment.

Hurrying under the alcove of the apartment block, Martha was quick to allow them inside the warm entrance hall, where it was a short climb upstairs before they reached her own apartment. Cold, wet and feeling downright miserable, Martha grumpily unlocked the door and made her way inside. "Typical London," she grumbled as she shrugged her jacket off, chucking it on the nearby coat rack and stomping inside without looking at the Doctor.

The Doctor seemed blissfully unaware of her mood. He was far too interested in looking around the apartment, dripping on her laminated floor. Hands jammed into his trouser pockets and a grin wound across his lips, it was clear he was experiencing a treat. Martha was kicking off her boots like they had done her a personal wrong, and turned her back on them when they fell over pitifully at the abuse. She made her way into the kitchen, of which earned her a cheerful, "Ooh, are you making tea?"

Martha span round to fast she almost made her neck crick. "You what?" she said, tone almost threatening.

"You know. Tea. Humans do that when they get home don't they? They also go – brrrr - " and he shook himself on the spot, sending droplets everywhere, " – when they come in from the rain."

Martha simply stared at him for a moment before she returned to the kitchen. "Do you take sugar?"

"I don't know," he replied unhelpfully. Martha's head reappeared into view and her glare quickly caused him to answer. "No sugar!" As Martha disappeared from view to fill the kettle, the Doctor continued to explore the surroundings. It was all rather fascinating to him. Taking off his long coat, he hung it on the coat rack before wandering over to the coffee table.

Strewn across the surface were several medical journals, of which had coloured pieces of paper marking important pages. It was a huge contrast to the piles of worn women's magazines he usually spied on the Tyler's coffee table. He had noticed the differences between the two women since he first saw Martha at the Royal Hope hospital. A keen medical student, she had a sharp mind that he admired and an infectious thirst for knowledge. It many ways, she was a lot more like him than Rose, who had been a simple young girl with an equally simple lifestyle.

When Martha entered the room with a mug of tea for both of them, the Doctor was sat on the couch, glasses propped on his nose as he peered inquisitively into one of the thick volumes off the table. "No sugar," announced Martha as she set the mug down on the coffee table in front of him. Dropping down onto the sofa besides him, she peered at the journal he held before making a noise of disgust. "I have exams coming up," she noted.

"These are rather intriguing," said the Doctor as he closed the book and returned it to the pile on the table. "I might have to get a few copies to take with me in the Tardis. Not bad for a little light reading."

"Light reading!" repeated Martha with an amused laugh. "Yeah, right."

The Doctor leaned forward to pick up his mug, promptly settling back onto the couch and studying the flowery pattern on the ceramic. He leant forward to take a testing sip of the liquid before he leant back once more, looking very much at home. Something that Martha noticed, for she was watching him with a small smile. "What?" asked the Doctor naively.

"You're so human sometimes," she said, rather fondly. "You look human, you dress human, you even sound human."

"I don't always act human, though, do I?" the Doctor replied, taking a nonchalant sip of tea.

Martha smiled, "Sometimes I forget you're an alien." An amused chuckle sounded from the Doctor, which Martha was pleased to hear. Despite the short time she had travelled with him, not only had they gone through some dangerous times, but she had got rather attached to him. "So, when you go back to the Tardis, are you just going to be on your own again?"

"Yep, just me," he confirmed without hesitation, though he was concentrating on his mug of tea rather closely now.

"Is that what you always do?" asked Martha, a cool tone permeating her words, "Take a companion along for a few trips then dump them?"

The Doctor looked surprised at her rather harsh words. He felt it was unwarranted. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"When you get bored of them do you just kick them out and go off to find yourself another companion?"

He stared at her. "Where did you get that idea from?"

"I don't know, but I certainly feel like I'm being rated."

"Rated?"

"Am I not good enough to travel around with you or something? Do I need some sort of outer-space experience before I can truly get to grips with a time-travelling experience?" The Doctor tried to interrupt, but Martha wasn't having it. "You take me off on these unimaginable journeys, these trips of a lifetime, then here I am, back home again. Like you're returning me because I'm not as good as Rose was!"

He managed to intervene successfully this time. "Why are you bringing Rose up?"

"Because that's all _you_ ever do!"

A nasty silence fell between them, both unable to find words worth speaking as they glared at each other. The Doctor had a grim expression across his face, whilst Martha was breathing heavily in a bid to restrain the adrenaline rush at her outburst. "You have no idea what happened to Rose," he said in a tense voice.

"No, I don't, but do I deserve to be compared to a woman I've never even met?"

"I'm not comparing – "

"Yes you are!" Martha exclaimed, talking over him fiercely. "And I'm sick of it." Without any warning, she slammed her mug down and stood to her feet, striding off across the apartment.

Not one to give up without a fight, the Doctor followed suit. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to have a shower, if you don't mind! God, give me some bloody space."

"Shall I go?"

"Do what you want!" she snapped, becoming angrier the longer she was in the same room as him. It infuriated her, the inability to communicate with him, to understand him. He kept her at arm's length and she just wanted to embrace everything about him. Since entering her life, he had completely thrown it apart, yet he had given her some of the best memories she'd ever have. She looked over her shoulder to see him stood in the middle of her living room, looking so normal, so human. Just like any man, confused when a woman became angry with them. He looked so lost and dejected that Martha felt guilt trickling in. She fiercely pushed it aside, glaring at him before she entered the bathroom with a slam of the door.

* * *

Feeling distinctly refreshed after cleansing herself of the dirt from various aeons of time, Martha exited the bathroom to find her living room empty. There was no sign of the Doctor. Even though they had argued, she felt her heart sink. He had left without even saying goodbye. For a second, she was overcome with an urge to cry at the frustration of it all, but immediately resisted, abashed at her momentary weakness. Inhaling a great breath of air, she tightened the belt of her dressing gown and moved over to clear away the abandoned coffee mugs. As always, she was determined to leave the apartment relatively tidy before she went to bed, and proceeded to plump up the cushions on the couch, and straighten the various medical journals. Returning to the bathroom, she put the bathmat back to its spot over the edge of the tub, and picked up her dirty clothes from the floor.

Just about to place them in the wash basket, she stopped, staring at a spot of dried, caked mud on the back of her jeans. That was 17th century sludge caked on the denim, from when she and the Doctor had fled from Queen Elizabeth the First. Feeling those annoying tears creeping up again, she angrily tossed the jeans into her wash basket, closing the lid and hiding them from view. All she needed was a good night's rest. Maybe she could convince herself it had all been a dream and that the Doctor didn't even exist.

It didn't seem like a bad plan, she thought as she crossed the living room to depart to her bedroom for the night. She entered, quietly closing the door and untying the belt of her dressing gown. She had only hung it up and taken a few more steps forward when through the dim slither of moonlight she saw a figure upon her bed, and promptly screamed.

The figure on the bed jumped, and Martha scrambled back towards her door to put her dressing gown on to hide her pyjama-clad form. She flicked the on light, and the disappearing darkness revealed the Doctor, laid on her bed fully clothed, right down to his red Converse. "What.. are you doing?" Martha uttered through gritted teeth.

"You've only got one bed," he announced nonchalantly.

"I'm aware of that," muttered Martha as she quickly tied the belt of the dressing gown about her waist again. "But that doesn't explain why you're lying on it. I thought you had gone back to the Tardis."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "What? And leave you whilst you're in a bad mood with me, nah."

Irritated, but also secretly pleased, Martha threw her hands upon her hips and tossed her head in an imposing manner. "I want to go to sleep."

"There's plenty of room," said the Doctor, patting the spot besides him on the double bed. "We managed on a single bed before, come on, it'll be easier this time. I won't keep elbowing you in the night."

Martha looked at the spot he patted before she threw him a scandalised look. "I am not sharing a bed with you!"

For a moment, the Doctor almost looked offended. "Well, I need somewhere to sleep."

A soft sigh was exhaled before Martha lifted her hands in defeat. "Fine," she said tensely, "but I'm not taking my dressing gown off." Turning off the bedroom light, she stomped towards the bed and pulled back the covers, which was restricted by the Doctor's weight lying atop of them. She persevered and eventually managed to climb inside. She wasn't making things easy for him however, as she promptly turned her back on him.

The Doctor just looked up at the ceiling, absently counting down in his head until the moment Martha spun round to face him with a frown. He had a small smile on his face. Humans could be so predictable sometimes.

"Why are you still here?" she asked again, watching him. "Why didn't you just leave?"

"Because I had an apology to make," said the Doctor seriously. "You're right, during your time with me I haven't been treating you as well as I should have. I have been trying to distance myself from you."

Glad to finally be getting somewhere, Martha encouraged him quietly. "Why?"

Slowly, he looked down at her, then sliding his back off the headboard and allowing his head to meet the pillow. "Because after what happened to Rose I promised myself that I wouldn't allow myself to get too attached to another companion again."

"That still doesn't explain why one minute you're all cheerful and the next you go cold. You keep sending me so many signals, I can barely understand who you are. I know nothing about you Doctor, you tell me nothing."

"It's hard to control yourself like that," he explained. "When I think I'm becoming too relaxed, I restrain myself."

Martha watched him silently for a moment. "And did it work?"

There was a small laugh, "No, not really. I'm far too much of a social creature."

"And you like me?" suggested Martha brazenly.

"Yes, I like you," he replied with a bright grin across his face. "You remind me of myself in a lot of ways. You're an intelligent woman with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and you're always in the mood for an adventure."

"Well matched," Martha said, a small smirk in place.

The Doctor gave a small nod of agreement. "Yes, I suppose you could say we are."

And there it was again, that horribly fantastic opportunity she had when she was laid in bed with him before. Face to face, only inches away from each other. Could she blame it all on a genetic transfer? If he could force a kiss upon her, then couldn't she do it back? It'd even out the unfairness of it all, surely? She leant forward, carefully, expecting to close that distance and feel his lips upon hers again, but she stopped when he rolled onto his back, completely unaware of what he had just missed.

Part of her wanted to grab him and snog him senseless for that stupid interruption, but she withheld her urges and sank down into the bed, defeated. "I'll return to the Tardis in the morning," said the Doctor softly, as though somehow, he knew something wasn't quite right between then again.

"So, you'll stay tonight?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah, I'll stay tonight. That's if you don't mind," he glanced towards her slowly, giving her the opportunity to kick him out of her apartment.

She couldn't help with smile bashfully when his eyes met hers. "I don't mind," she replied. "I was sort of hoping you might talk to me.. tell me more about yourself. I barely know anything about you. Well, I know you're an alien, but who are you? Where do you come from?"

"Gallifrey," said the Doctor quickly, ceasing her ramblings. "That was my home planet."

"Was?" Martha asked tentatively, feeling a huge tug of regret in her stomach. She shouldn't have pressured him into talking about himself..

"Yes," he confirmed quietly, eyes set unseeingly on the ceiling as he spoke. "It had meadows of red grass as far as the eye could see, set under a burnt orange sky.. We had two suns, one of which would rise in the south and the trees.. oh, their leaves of silver would shine amongst the mountains."

Silence drifted between them for a moment, before Martha softly spoke. "It sounds beautiful, Doctor."

"It was. But then there was the great Time War and the planet was destroyed." Silence continued before the Doctor finally added, "I'm not just a Time Lord. I'm the last of the Time Lords."

Through the faint moonlight, Martha could see a faint trail of tears down his pale cheeks and she leaned forward slowly. "I'm sorry," she whispered, apologising for his loss, for arguing with him, for not understanding him. "I'm so sorry." Without asking, she wrapped an arm about his chest, embracing him tightly.

He didn't object. "Stay on Earth, Martha," he said quietly, looking towards her. "Finish your exams, become a doctor like you've always wanted. You don't want to be stuck with me."

Martha didn't say anything; she just glanced aside with a frown across her brow. Whilst what he said made perfect sense, she still didn't want to leave him. "You need someone," she said quietly.

"I don't need anyone."

"Yes, you do. You might not want to admit it, but you do, Doctor."

"And you think that someone is you?"

Martha looked up at him slowly, "Well, that's your decision, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he said softly, eyes returning to the ceiling. "You're right."

She smiled slowly, shuffling forward a little more so she could hug him tightly. She wanted to make sure he knew that she was willing to go through all the dangers and trauma, because she felt that he was worth it. And if he needed her enough, she would not hesitate to be with him. Neither of them spoke again, and instinctively, Martha lowered her head towards his chest. In response, the Doctor arm curled about her tightly, for once, just needing to know someone was there. Eyes upon the window, the rain outside still fell heavily and Martha slowly felt herself being lured to sleep by the double thump of his beating hearts.

* * *

Thank you for reading this little ficlet. Please drop a review on your way out!


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